


Smoke Gets in Your Eyes

by Daft_and_Daring



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Angst, Because knowing their backstory is vital to my survival, F/M, Idiots in Love, Maybe a few details from David Harbour's head canon, almost relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-11
Updated: 2017-11-11
Packaged: 2019-01-31 22:46:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12691722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daft_and_Daring/pseuds/Daft_and_Daring
Summary: A collection of smoke breaks that were almost something more.





	Smoke Gets in Your Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoy! There will be more to come.

**Chapter 1 -** _edited_ _on 9/16/18_

 

Joyce slipped out of the girl’s bathroom with ease, adjusting the textbooks that weighed heavy in her arms.

She was cutting class.

_Again._

It wasn’t that she was intentionally missing calculus; it was simply because she couldn’t bring herself to go. In truth, the material came easily, but her teacher, Mr. Humphrey, bored her into oblivion. It didn’t help that she didn’t have any friends in the class either. The only person who even tried to talk to her was Lonnie Byers. Usually, she would’ve been flattered to receive such attention. _Except._ Well, except that he only talked to her to ask for answers. He was also a complete ass, so that played a major role, too, of course.

He’d flirted with her before—for years, if she could remember—but there was something about him that was off-putting. Mostly, she was bothered by the fact that he bullied other kids. There wasn’t a week that went by when Joyce didn’t see him taunting poor Bobby Newby in the parking lot. She always caught her fingers rolling into fists, ready to intervene, but she hadn't yet snapped. Instead, she’d watch Bobby pick up his books or weird headsets that looked like they were for space communication. She could say something; she _should_ say something, but nothing came. She’d always wind up snapping her mouth shut and shaking her head. And Bobby would smile, but never respond. Their interactions, if you could even call them that, contained only a heaping amount of awkward silence, to which Joyce would then gently excuse herself.

But she hadn’t seen Bobby or Lonnie this morning. To be honest, she hadn’t paid much attention to anyone that morning. She tore into school at eight, stopped by her locker, said hello to her friend Linda, and was off to English. Four periods later and her hand was cramping from taking so many notes. Joyce was picking up the pace in the last two years, hoping for solid As and Bs. It was draining, but worth it, as she held out for college. _Somewhere far, far away from Hawkins_.

Granted, cutting class wasn’t exactly conducive for going to college, but Joyce convinced herself that she _deserved_ a reward occasionally. It’s tough being a good student. People need to let off steam, right?

Joyce slinked around the corner into the sophomore hallway. It was at the farther end of the school, the quieter end...the end where teachers were too lazy to roam the hallways for the exact reason Joyce was currently occupying the hall. As she crept past the classrooms, she gave a silent prayer of thanks for all the teachers who closed their doors, oblivious to the world outside their own four walls. Just as she reached the end of the hall, she ducked under the flight of stairs there. Plopping herself down on the floor, she looked out the exit door just a few feet from her to the football field beyond. By the looks of it, Mr. Carlson was trying to squeeze the last bit of summer out of the freshmen as they ran circles around the track. Late September could mean anything for Indiana weather. Who knew if they’d get another week with weather as warm and sunny as this? Hell, last year it snowed the last week of September, but this year, some people were still found swimming at the quarry. _Figures._

Joyce was pulled from her musings as she heard harsh whispers cut through the air behind her. She wasn’t sure if she should peek around the staircase or not, but it seemed as if two people were arguing. She strained her ears, trying to hear further down the hall.

“—meant nothing?!” A young female voice hissed, a little loud for a whisper.

Joyce tried to lean closer to the hear the other speaker, but their voice was inaudible at this distance. Quiet, but stern, like talking through gritted teeth. Joyce was certain it was a guy, which piqued her interest even more. _Trouble in paradise?_

Joyce contemplated for a moment if she should tempt fate, and in the end her resolve crumbled. She inched even closer to the corner of the wall that blocked the staircase from view. Her nose barely slid past the cold concrete as her head craned around the corner. Her eyes grew wide before snapping her head back against the stairs.

_Jim Hopper. Chrissy Carpenter._

_The_ senior couple. Certainly enough to garner buzz for homecoming court that year. Joyce was surprised to see them arguing. Usually Chrissy was all over Jim in public, and Joyce had heard the rumors about Jim stealing his dad’s Oldsmobile to get some alone time with her, but that was about a year ago. Maybe things had changed?

All Joyce knew was that she was not a fan of Chrissy. If anyone was searching for a long, sharp object, Joyce would gladly point them in the direction of one Chrissy Carpenter; she was perpetually known for having a stick up her ass about _everything_. Her hair, her smokes, her friends. Joyce never rolled her eyes more than in Chrissy’s presence. They both were at least tolerant of one another in public, but in reality, Joyce didn’t see what Hopper saw in her.

Joyce, trying to both eavesdrop and stay hidden, took another glance at them. Chrissy’s arms folded across her self, the creases in her tartan dress evident as her fingers clenched and unclenched around the fabric. Her honey-blonde hair hung right at her shoulders. Nothing about her was out of place. Even as she shook her head furiously. She was pretty, Joyce had to admit, even when she was shooting daggers at the boy in front of her.

Jim, on the other hand, was not nearly as rigid as Chrissy. Joyce still couldn’t hear what he was saying, but his hands flew around him in manic animation. His posture seemed casual and loose, despite his harsh grumbling. His tone only seemed to annoy Chrissy further, her voice raising significantly.

“Jimmy, I don’t care if your folks found out! That doesn’t mean we have to stop seenin’ one another!”

_Oh boy._

Joyce strained to hear Hopper’s response, but all she got was mostly hand gestures, a huff, and an eye roll. Hopper’s eye rolls were almost as good as her own. She was just about turn away when she saw a flash, followed by the sound of Chrissy’s hand meeting Jim Hopper’s left cheek. Joyce quickly ducked back behind the staircase, hearing Chrissy release a shrill of annoyance as her heels quickly clicked down the hall in the opposite direction. Joyce half expected to hear the clunking trail of Jim’s boots after the poor girl, but instead she heard them moving towards her space behind the stairs. Joyce froze in fear, holding her breath and willing them to stop. They did, mere feet from reaching the staircase.

_ Nonononono. _

“Did you enjoy the show?” Jim’s voice bounced down the hall with a hint of mirth. Fear and embarrassment burned at the edges of Joyce’s features. “Come on Joyce, it’s fifth period. I know you’re there.” His steps started again until he rounded the corner and was towering over her. She felt as if her face matched the red color of her cardigan.

“Well, well, well, Joyce Horowitz, you run like clockwork, ya know that?” He drops with a wide grin. From the looks of it, you’d never have guessed he was just fighting with his girlfriend.

Joyce felt caught, and literally cornered, so she replied back with maybe a bit more bite than necessary. “Your face hurting a bit, Hop?” Joyce drips sarcastically. That only caused Jim to throw his head back and let out a honest laugh.

“A little bit, yeah.” He responds as he crosses her at her feet, moving to sit next to her on the floor.

Joyce softens at his answer. “Want to talk about it?” He shakes his head before pulling a pack of Camels from his pocket. He slides out one for her before taking one for himself. Joyce presses the cigarette between her lips and in no time Hopper is sparking his lighter, moving the flame towards her. She coughs a few times as the flame ignites the tobacco...every time...and Jim just smiles.

_This was their pattern._

Hopper found her hiding here once during fifth period towards the end of last year, and ever since then they had struck up a bit of a secret friendship. Sure, they spoke to one another in public, the occasional 'how's it going?' stuff; it was hard not to in such a small town, but Joyce kept her distance. Jim was different; the upper-crust of popular. Joyce’s family struggled to make ends meet, and sometimes it was hard to make that go unnoticed in a town where all the girls dolled up wearing dresses and skirts, convinced dungarees and capris were not quite all the rage they should be.

So they came to an unspoken agreement: they would meet here occasionally, chat about whatever, or some days sit in companionable silence, share a smoke, and be on their way. Joyce rather enjoyed his company. Jim really was _different,_ though. He wasn’t the jock everyone pegged him to be. He was full of wit and sarcasm, foul words, and even, perhaps, a few philosophical debates. Despite the fact that they didn’t know each other very well, Joyce felt like they understood one another.

“You know it’s not my place, really, but it seems like we’ve barely started the year and we’ve already met up here, what? Six, seven times? Don’t you have class to get to?” Jim’s voice pulls Joyce from her thoughts, breaking their short-lived silence. _So today is a talking day_ , _after all_.

“I’m stressed,” Joyce quickly starts as she takes another drag of her cigarette. “We can’t all have it so easy, Hop.” She adds with a smile.

He tucks his legs under him, “Oh? I have it easy, now?” Joyce rolls her eyes.

“Quite so, I’m afraid. Rather unfortunate,” she nearly laughs and he shakes his head as she continues, “Football star, probably will play in college, big city, yeah? You still thinking about being a cop?”

He nods. “Yeah, okay. I do have it, _easier._ ” She lets out a muffled laugh as he takes a long inhale from his Camel. After a moment he lets out a large puff in Joyce’s face, playfully, to which she smacks his shoulder. “What about you, miss? Hmmm? Got any big plans in the next few years? Or will you be a permanent Hawkins resident?”

She’s shaking her head violently before she even responds, “Absolutely, not. Graduation, then I am outta here.” Her voice is filled with purpose.

Jim seems excited for her, “So where are you off to? Why in such a hurry?” He leans in, like he’s about to hear a grand story.

Joyce sends a puff of smoke upwards, “Anywhere. I don’t know where I’m going, I just know I want out. I want more, ya know? Whether that be Indy or Chicago? I dunno, maybe California?”

Hopper raises his cigarette up in the air, “Joycie’s moving up in the world!! WhooHoo! Big plans!” To which Joyce quickly decks him in the shoulder with a right hook, almost dropping her cigarette in the process. He feigns injury, before adding, “All right, all right. I’m kidding, I’m kidding.”

She shakes her head at him, “I mean, the town isn’t so bad though, is it? I do _like_ Hawkins, but on the other hand, there’s more to life than _Hawkins_ , am I right?”

He shrugs, taking another drag. Noncommittal. _Same, Hop_.

They fall into silence for a while after that, flicking their ashes like it’s a game, minds wandering as the gray flecks glide to the floor.

Jim finally speaks up when his cigarette is almost out. “...So Chrissy is mad at me because my mom found out I’m not _actually_ on the debate team. I made it up so I had a reason for being home so late. Now, somehow, it’s all my fault.” Joyce’s head perks up and turns to look at him. _So we_ are _talking about this_.

“Oh, so the rumors are true about you and your old man’s Oldsmobile?” Joyce says in an attempt to make the situation light-hearted. He looks at her with confused features.

“Whadda ya mean?” His brows knitting together.

“Nevermind…” Joyce trails, “Anyways--”

Hopper swiftly stamps his cigarette on the bottom of his boot as Joyce quickly takes a large draw from her own, “Now wait a second, how do you know about me and Chrissy meeting up after school?” Joyce lets the smoke leave her lips slowly as she grits her teeth in awkward defeat. “Ah jeez….” he mumbles. “She told everyone, didn’t she?” Joyce attempts a supportive smile. Hopper huffs and adds, “Shit.”

After a moment, he continues. “Well, that girl is more work than anything else. Honestly, I’m glad we broke up.” His tone is nonchalant.

Joyce nearly chokes on her smoke, “Wait. You broke up!? I thought you just had a fight!? Why did you break up!?” At that, Hopper bursts.

“Because she’s _INSANE_ , Joyce! I feel like I live and breathe Chrissy-fucking-Carpenter every goddamned day.” His eyes widen in manic terror. “I can’t do it, Joyce. I was losing my mind. We talk every day, before and after school. Between periods. She wants me to see her at lunch. She waves to me from the sidelines at practice. We see each other after school during the week, on the weekends at parties. She told me she wanted to follow me to college, and start planning our future. And I dunno, something in me snapped, and I couldn’t do it! She’s already fucking picked out names for our children for christ’s sake! Patricia and David! Like what is that?!”

He gulps down air, but isn’t ready to end his tirade. “And then my mom found out I was lying, you know, about where I’d been, or whatever, and I just used that as an out. I told her I couldn’t see her anymore and she lost it. She _LOST it!_ She slapped me because I said I wanted to do right by my mom. Granted I was lying, but still!” All the while, Hopper’s arms stretch in a thousand directions to add to his point, his voice emphasizing each syllable. Once he finishes, he lets a few heavy breaths out through his nostrils. Joyce can’t help but choke back a laugh as she stubs out her cigarette on the floor. She interjects, “Well, I thought that was a great speech, Hop. The ending seemed a bit rushed, but it certainly coulda fooled me about the debate team.”

Hopper gives her a cold, but playful stare. “Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up. You’ll understand when you get a serious boyfriend.” He pauses, “Speaking of which…”

Joyce immediately deflects, pushing his hands away, shoving his head in other direction, “Nope. We’re not talking about me, we’re talking about you, remember?” Joyce was a master at deflecting about her love life...mostly because she didn’t have one. Besides Lonnie Byer’s half-assed attempts at making her swoon, Joyce didn’t have time for the shit. Jim laughed in response, easily nudging her small hands away.

“Nobody, Joyce? You know, I could always set you up: Scott Gilmore, John Harrington…?”

A noise of disgust escaped Joyce, “Ugh. Scott Gilmore permanently smells like the boy’s locker room. And _John_? We kissed once in the fifth grade on a dare, and it was the sloppiest slug-of-a-kiss. I've heard that it has  _not_ changed much since then.” She added defiantly, scooting away from him.

“Ok, relax. I was just throwing out some options.” His eyes squint. “So no seniors, huh?” He looks as though he’s mentally searching through Hawkins High’s yearbook. “What about some Juniors? The Brain seems to be pretty sweet on you.” A genuine smile spread across his features, but it’s a look that also tells her he’s half full of shit.

“ _Bob Newby?_ Bobby, _‘the Brain,’_ Newby? Jesus, Hop.” She rolls her eyes.

Jim yields, “Yeah, you’re right. The kid is nice, but he’s gotta be the biggest weirdo, if I’ve ever seen one.” Joyce smacks him playfully but yells, “Hop! He _is_ nice!”

“But I’m right, aren’t I?” He looks at her pointedly, and she looks down, only to glance up at him with a smirk on her face, telling him everything he needs to know. They both let out a chuckle.

The bell blares suddenly, ending fifth period. Hopper, unfazed, easily jumps to his feet, holding his hand out to Joyce for assistance. She slides one tiny palm into his grasp and he nearly launches her as she gets to her feet. The sound of clamoring students echoes down the hallway, getting louder as kids begin to descend the stairs above them. He lets her hand go and she brings hers together, wringing them uncomfortably; their time is up.

“Well, see ya around?” He asks more out of expectation than as a pleasantry, offering a half smile.

“Of course…” she pauses, not really wanting to go back to the real world yet. Kids start darting past them in an attempt to get to class, and Hopper straightens his letterman jacket. She begins to say something else, of what she’s not sure, but then he cuts her off, patting his hand on her head.

“Wow, you’re _really_ short.” Jim lets out. He begins to draw an invisible line with his hand from the crown of her head to the middle of his chest. She decks him once more for good measure and shakes her head, stepping back from him.

“Hello everyone! I present: Jim Hopper, The Ass!” She raises her arms up in presentation as she begins to back peddle down the hallway. A few students clap at the show. She turns away from him, satisfied. Hopper begins to shout, not ready to leave it at that.

“The _Best_ Ass!” He booms, but by then Joyce is in the throng of students. The only part of her that is visible is her arm that extends above the crowd, leaving him with her middle finger as their final exchange. He laughs and shakes his head, slinging his backpack over his shoulder and speaking to no one in particular, “Always gotta get the last word in.”

**Author's Note:**

> So, I posted this almost a year ago, but wasn't happy with it. I definitely just had an idea, churned it out, and didn't look back. Well, except, I just kept coming back. At first, I thought I wanted to pitch the whole thing, but in the end, I'd like to see where this goes. Hopefully, I'll be better at editing this more closely before posting next time. I switch tenses like a maniac, which I'm trying to be better about, but please let me know if you catch anything off. I also realized how many times I use the word "add" and it physically makes me cringe--so watch out for that, too. =]


End file.
